


Slightly Warm & Somewhat Sweet

by queerhealer



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Shimadacest, Sibling Incest, Young Genji Shimada, Young Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 05:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11097798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerhealer/pseuds/queerhealer
Summary: “Say, Anija,” Genji starts, and Hanzo doesn’t like the tone he’s taken on with him one bit. It’s too sly, too prying, he can already tell.“How come you never share your exploits? You can’t tell me that no one’s ever tried to jump on your dick before–I mean, who wouldn’t? We’re practically royalty around here. People love to brag that they got wrecked by a Yakuza prince.” He’s leaning forward, perched on the edge on the desk Hanzo’s working at. He’s making a point of inserting himself into his space, something that he knows will irk Hanzo into giving him a response (Though whether or not it would actually be a response to his question remained to be seen).





	Slightly Warm & Somewhat Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> If you notice a "." in the names, it's leftover courtesy censoring from when I copied it over from tumblr. Let me know if I missed any! 
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy some slightly-awkward Hanzo gettin' smooched for the first time. (And how bout that cheesy title huh?) 
> 
> Send all prompts/headcanons/ramblings to queerhealer.tumblr.com!

Consider– Genji was Hanzo’s first (and for quite a few subsequent years after, only) kiss.

It’s not like he wasn’t interested in other people. He had crushes, of course, everyone does. But none came to fruition, ever. The few times he attempted to speak to the objects of his affections, he came off as cold, too intense, too serious, so much more than the average fourteen year old could handle. Between his less than adept social skills and pressures increasing from the clan to perform in a certain manner, he essentially gave up on ever pursuing romance, at least not until he was either an adult, or the clan arranged someone for him.

Of course, Genji was in no way aware of this. Sure, to a degree he knew that his brother wasn’t nearly as charming as him, couldn’t captivate his peers with just a look and a few words as Genji could. But he never thought it would extend so far as his brother, nearly twenty now, never even having been kissed at least once, or at the bare minimum even having been on a date.

It comes up casually in conversation. Genji is tittering on about his latest conquest while Hanzo works away at some sort of document (he spent precisely 0.7 seconds trying to explain before he realized his brother wasn’t listening). For the most part, he’s able to tune out the chatter, ‘mhm’-ing and ‘I see’-ing at the right intervals. But his pen stops when the questions become directed towards him.

“Say, Anija,” Genji starts, and Hanzo doesn’t like the tone he’s taken on with him one bit. It’s too sly, too prying, he can already tell.

“How come you never share your exploits? You can’t tell me that no one’s ever tried to jump on your dick before–I mean, who wouldn’t? We’re practically royalty around here. People love to brag that they got wrecked by a Yakuza prince.” He’s leaning forward, perched on the edge of the desk Hanzo’s working at. He’s making a point of inserting himself into his space, something that he knows will irk Hanzo into giving him a response (Though whether or not it would actually be a response to his question remained to be seen).

Hanzo stiffens as his brother inches forward.

“I do not share because it is none of your business,” he replies curtly. “And I don’t ask for your play-by-plays either, mind you. You offer your personal life up voluntarily. I can’t be blamed for not reciprocating.”

It was not the answer he wanted, but it was one he more or less expected.

“That’s called ‘making conversation’,” he said, somewhat dubiously. “That’s how people interact. You know, form relationships and all that crap?”

He sighs and leans back a little bit, distributing more weight onto his palms.

“Maybe,” he says teasingly, “You won’t tell me because it’s too dirty to share with your brother.”

“Genji–” There is warning in his tone, one that says that this is not a topic tat he wishes to discuss, and if he were wise, it would stop here and now.

His brother was not wise.

“I wonder,” he sing-songs, “What my oh-so-stuffy older brother gets up to when no one’s looking~” He’s swinging his legs in time with his off-key singing, and Hanzo has half a mind to shove him off the desk.

“ _Enough_ , I’m serious–!”

“Perhaps,” he says, eyes absolutely sparkling, “You like to make them choke on it? Or maybe it’s you who’s doing the choking? I bet that’s close,” he snickers, “You’ve always struck me as a needy bottom, Anija.” There’s an odd sort of fondness with the last line, and Hanzo swears it’s the same tone he uses when he’s chatting someone up when they go out.

No, he’s sure of it, in fact. It’s an oddity, certainly something he’s never had directed towards him before, but it’s not unpleasant. The tone, at least–the words, on the other hand, were making him seriously consider the merits of fratricide.

“Genji, please, I’m really not in the mood for this.”

“Why not?” He asks, head snapping up from where he had it relaxed and lolling back previously. “It’s not like it’s not true.”

Hanzo gives him a pointed look. Genji backtracks.

“Some of it is–sure, I’m exaggerating for the sake of pissing you off, but it’s not like I’m not in the ballpark, right?”

Hanzo doesn’t say anything.

It’s always been a bit of a sore spot for him–that his brother could be so naturally gifted in that particular area, and that he, the eldest who was supposed to hit major milestones (such as kisses and sex, for example) well before his brother, had not even managed to successfully confess to a crush once. It was downright humiliating, if he was honest. And the last person he wanted to discuss that particular shortcoming to was the one he felt like he was in a losing race with.

Genji knows his brother well enough to know what a silent avoidance of a question meant (because his Anija always had something to say, such a sharp tongue he possessed). It was a definite ‘No.’ And suddenly, he felt a little bad for insisting and ribbing, and to such an extreme degree. No wonder he had appeared so uncomfortable, no wonder he as currently going so red at this moment.

“Have you ever done anything with another person, Anija?” He asks quietly. “Have you ever kissed? Held hands at least? You have to have done at least that much by now.”

Hanzo looks away, not that he had been making eye contact in the first place.

“It is of no matter,” he replies tersely. Genji takes that as a confirmation.

Sure, he could buy that his brother was still a virgin. Hanzo had never been the type to run into things quickly. But the fact that he still had yet to have his first kiss? At nineteen? Had likely never even been touched by someone in a romantic gesture? In all honestly, it made Genji’s chest constrict and ache a little. That wasn’t fair at all. Didn’t his brother at least deserve small things?

“I think it is.” His voice has changed now. Gone is the teasing tone, replaced with a rare one of genuine care. “I mean, you want to, don’t you? At least, I think you do.”

Hanzo sighs deeply. To most, he was unreadable. But to his brother was was more transparent than a bowl of still water. For all his carefree ways, Genji was surprisingly observant and astute when it came to people. Especially his brother.

“It does not matter what I want.” He is still not making eye contact. “If no one is willing.”

_Ouch._

Was his opinion of himself truly that low?, Genji thinks sadly. If he thought about it, though, it didn’t exactly come as a surprise. The outside world had thus so far not treated him kindly when it came to any sort of attempted interaction. It was only natural that he would begin to adopt those same views of himself.

“I could help you though,” Genji says, a little bit more perked up. An idea formed in his head, and while it was definitely impromptu, if there was a chance it would improve his brother’s mood and knock one of those items off his bucket list, it couldn’t hurt to try.

“As much as I appreciate it, I doubt paying off one of your friends into a relationship with me is ethical, Genji,” he says dryly, peeking at him slightly.

“What? No! Not even close.” He fights off the urge to laugh, because really, his brother could be funny when he wanted to be. “I mean, I don’t really think there’s anything I could do about, you know, dating or anything. That’s kind of on you.”

The statement seemed to depress him even more. Genji quickly continued.

“But, if it’s not about that and just about trying things to say you’ve tried them, then you and I could…” He trails off when Hanzo meets his eyes, incredulous to the fact that Genji is actually suggesting what he’s suggesting.

“Not anything extreme,” he adds when he catches the bewilderment. “But like–here, let me just show you.”

He moves lightning fast, and before Hanzo can react, Genji’s reached down and grabbed one of his free hands, lacing their fingers together and holding him snug.

“See? Like that. Now if you get asked by a girl or a guy or whoever in the future, you can say you’ve gone that far.”

He looks down at where they’re joined in some sort of a quiet awe. Genji’s hand is mostly soft, with a few calluses on the palm, and warm. He’s rubbing his thumb over Hanzo’s hand in an almost soothing manner. It’s nice, and if he focuses just on the feeling itself instead of who that hand’s attached to, he thinks that he’d very much like to do this more often.

(Of course, he fights down the voice that tells him that the only person who’s ever wanted to has been his seventeen year old brother, and even then that was probably out of pity, and this would probably be the last time he got to enjoy such treatment.)

“This is… pleasant.” He finally says after a moment, now turned more directly towards Genji.

“Right? It’s a small thing but it’s sweet to do. People usually really like it,” he adds for good measure.

Hanzo nods, eyes still focused on the hands, and how Genji didn’t show any signs of letting him go.

“So item number one–accomplished,” his brother says cheerfully. “We could do the second one,” he tells him matter of factly.

Hanzo blinks. “Second one?”

“Kissing.”

“Oh.”

Things are quiet between them for a moment. Hanzo considers it, can’t believe he’s considering it, and not only that, but is actually leaning towards saying yes. Just to get it over with. Just to feel what it’s like. And perhaps in that moment, he could pretend what it would be like to feel desired too.

Genji’s getting nervous at the prolonged silence. Like with most things in his life, his brother is contemplating. Contemplating, and still holding onto him. Hanzo’s grip is weak and unsure, and Genji gives a small squeeze of reassurance. He never thought that hand-hold could smack of inexperience, but here Hanzo was, doing exactly that.

Finally, he speaks up. “No tongue,” he concedes. Genji is just grateful to have an answer.

“No tongue,” he promises. “Now close your eyes and tilt your head a bit.”

Hanzo does as he’s told. He can feel his hand getting sweaty with anticipation, and knows Genji can feel it too.

The kiss is over far too quickly for his liking. Like his hand, his brother’s mouth is mostly soft, the lips unbearably gentle, and it leaves a feeling of warmth spreading throughout his body.

_So that’s what all of the fuss is about._

Genji pulls back after a few seconds. It hadn’t gotten sexual, but, he decided, it was definitely something he wouldn’t mind doing again. To teach him better, he told himself. Hanzo was stiff and unmoving, completely tense. It was definitely nerves, he knew, and no one would believe that he’d been kissed before if he went around kissing like that.

“That was… also nice,” Hanzo decides as his brother finally slips his hand away from his. He mourns the loss of it a little too much.

“I told you it would be,” Genji says somewhat smugly. “Everyone does it differently too, so I’m sure your first partner’ll have their own way of going about it.” He gives his brother a soft smile, amused at the way he’s now gone completely beet red (Hanzo always was a terrible full body blusher, much to his chagrin) and is still looking down at his empty palm.

Genji hops down from the desk and makes to leave the study, pausing at the door.

“And now you can confidently say you’ve done those things. You’re welcome, _Anija_.”

Hanzo nods and mutters out a dull ‘thanks’. And if his heart’s beating a little faster as he watches his little brother leave, no one has to know but him.


End file.
